


Charlie's Polypucks Drabble Dump

by CharlieDC



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Group chat, M/M, Multi, long distance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-02-01 18:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12710574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieDC/pseuds/CharlieDC
Summary: Random Polypucks drabbles that I normally write for my friends.CHAPTER 1: Eric tries to make Tater Russian food.CHAPTER 2: Kent needs to learn to filter his thoughts.CHAPTER 3: Eric needs to go to class (light SMUT).CHAPTER 4: Group chat mishaps (light SMUT).CHAPTER 5: Alexei's game unintentionally invites Kent and Bitty to play along (light SMUT).





	1. COMFORT

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clarxe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarxe/gifts).



> This first one was for Vic. So enjoy, my dear.
> 
> UPDATE: Most of them are. Who am I kidding...

Jack walks into an apartment filling with light smoke. The detector, he’s assuming, has already sounded and the smell of burnt food is repugnant. All the windows are open, from what he can tell, and there’s a sting behind his eyes as the smoke sets in. He walks into the kitchen to a shirtless, frantic Bitty scrubbing a pan in the sink, gloves on and all while Tater sits on the counter. His back is to the entrance, but the shake in his shoulders and rumble of his laughter makes the situation instantly lighter. 

To conclude, it’s a scene Jack never would imagine walking in on: Bittle scrubbing burnt food and Alexei laughing. Normally, the roles are reversed. Actually, no, normally it’s Kent burning things and Eric freaking out while Jack and Alexei laugh. 

“It’s not funny! I can’t do it right!” Eric drops the pan in the suds and hunches over. His shoulders are tense, but when Alexei slides off the counter to rub the tension out of his muscles, he relaxes. Soft kisses find their way to the back of Eric’s neck and Jack sighs.

Maybe he should come back later. He catches Kent walking up the steps to their apartment when he’s leaving.

“Why are you leaving? I thought you already-” His shirt is sticking to his chest as he just, Jack deduces, came back from a run. There’s a lift in his smile as he sees Jack on impact, and Jack’s heart doesn’t really know what to do with the Kent Parson, Gift From God, before him.

His heart does, though.

“We’re going for a walk.” Jack wrapped an arm around Kent’s shoulders to fully redirect him in a 180 motion down the stairs and to a car of choice.

“Are they having sex in there because this is criminal if you’re depriving me of that.”

Jack stops, “Do you think I’d do that to you?” He pulls Kenny close and huffs a laugh into his hair when Kent responds with a chirp.

“Give them a few hours, they need it.”

“Whatever you say, Zimmermann.” 

While Jack and Kent make future headlines about a sandwich date, Tater and Bitty are making out in their smoky kitchen.

Bitty is currently (somehow) in Alexei’s lap as Alexei is sliding back onto the counter. Eric sighs into Alexei’s neck as a hand slips beneath his waistband and squeezes the flesh beneath his shorts. Eric mouths at the expanse of skin, obviously sidetracked and wistful, while Alexei mumbles to him in Russian.

“You-” He sighs, “tryin’ to distract me?”

“I don’t like seeing frown.” Alexei responds and pulls Eric’s face close to his with his free hand, laying a soft kiss to his lips. “Frowns look bad on Itty Bitty.”

“You softy.” The smile he gives Tater is enough to make the last two hours and forty-three minutes not exist. The two hours and forty-three minutes Eric spent in the kitchen, with Tater at the counter, frantically putting together the recipe for a pirozhki. 

It was fun at first, they would flirt and chirp and Tater would read directions to Bitty while complimenting him in two tongues, causing Bitty to blush every time. Then the recipe got confusing as they both lost their focus, and when it was regained, so many steps were skipped with incorrect measurements. 

When Bitty finally got around to putting the pirozhki’s in the oven, they were doomed the second he set the oven to 400°. Tater was picking him up and whisking him off to the couch to make out while they cooked. An hour later, Bitty was covered in hickeys, the pirozhki’s were suffering in the oven and the smoke was thick. 

It all crashed down on him when the smoke detector went off. Now, however, they are starting from scratch and Tater is subject to the couch to watch his Russian soap operas and not interfere with Bitty’s cooking. You know, distractions and whatnot.

It was working until the test-batch came out… less than okay. 

“Alexei this batch is awful and I’m about ten seconds from throwing in the mittens.”

In the time Bitty took two deep breaths, Tater was crowding his space and wrapping strong arms around him. It’s moments like these, when he’s cradled in his warmth, the fabric of his shirt soft against his cheek, that Eric realizes just how big Tater is. With his large but soft hands, and equally big heart and soft personality. He’s brash and a force on the ice, but when he’s cuddling you at 2am humming; he’s a mellow, hazy version of the intensity during a game. He’s all smooth words and hushed tones with a steady heartbeat and sweet kisses. 

He’s a dream, really. Bitty thinks he’ll wake up, especially when he rolls over and sees mop-heads of black and blond. But, he never does. He never wants to. 

“Help me?” The wetness in Eric’s eyes as he looks up while Alexei looks down is enough to break his heart and send him to heaven in two words and a wet, teary blink. 

“[Конечно](google.com)!” Alexei says, and kisses Bitty’s forehead, “Anything for my Itty Bitty.”

They get the pirozhkis done, even have a fresh batch ready when Jack and Kent come back home. Alexei says it’s as close to his grandma’s recipe as they could get, with a smile on his face and a pirozhki in each hand. However, the questionable glow they both sport and the hickeys littered all over available skin raises some questions.


	2. STARVING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Kent's birthday and Lord, if he could only keep his mouth shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this.

Walking into the house should have been relatively easy for Kent Parson. It was, up until the whole “you opened your stupid horndog mouth, Parse, good fucking job”. As it was his birthday, he didn’t quite see the issue with speaking his mind as he strolled up to the front porch of the shared two story house in the glorious hillside of Providence, Rhode Island. Especially when he was walking up with his long time boyfriend Eric, to which he would open the door to the other long time boyfriends Jack and Alexei.

_ Especially _ when Eric was supposed to be the only one to hear what came out of his mouth. And hopefully Jack and Alexei on the other side of the door.

That was not what happened.

Eric had taken Kent to a sweet little bakery just on the other side of town, and they were getting back to the house with full stomachs as their hands knit together perfectly. Kent dropped Eric’s hand to pull him in close as they strut in stride up the cobblestone steps of their home. He gave his boyfriend’s butt a subtle, yet firm squeeze.

“What do you think this is, your birthday?” Bitty asked with a quirky smile, a responsive slap on Kent’s ass and a kiss on the cheek. 

Kent pulled Bitty in close and gave his hands the nice, familiar introduction to Eric’s ass.

“You know what I want for my present?” Kent had pressed Bitty up against the wall by the door, nearly missing the doorbell when he laid hands on either side of Eric's face.

“What?” Bitty asked, chancing a glance to the door and quickly looking back at his very handsy boyfriend.

“I want you to bend me over the kitchen counter and make Jack and Alexei wat-”

The very vulgar sentence was suddenly discontinued as Eric quickly kissed Kent’s lips, a bit off kilter. Kent complied, but was taken by surprise at the urgency.

This is an unlikely scenario as one Eric R. Bittle is a huge, but not outspoken, fan of dirty talk. It all pieced together very quickly for Kenny.

One, it makes sense that Eric wanted to keep their brunch date short, as he kept checking his watch and made a comment that they should get going when he wasn’t even done with his latte. So unlike him.

Two, he glanced at the door. Who the fuck glances at the door unless they’re A. expecting someone to open it or B. knowing someone is on the other side of that door.

Three, as previously mentioned, Eric “Bitty” Bittle would  _ never  _ in a million years miss the prime opportunity to hear absolute filth come out of Kent’s mouth.

“Oh no.” With that Sherlock Holmes level sleuthing, Kent’s face turned a shade it rarely turns (pink, for you John Watsons out there) as he slumped over Eric, defeated.

“What, honey?” Eric, bless him, was trying to play off the entire incident as sweetly as possible. He brushed a hand through Kent’s hair at the base of his neck as Kent was deflating over him.

“Bitty if I open that door and am met with the horrified faces of my close family and friends waiting to shout ‘surprise!’ at me, I’m driving to the airport and booking the first flight to Bora Bora until I see them next year.”

Bitty's face betrayed him, and Kent let out a whine. There was a small laugh coming from inside (definitely Swoops) and a grunt sound quickly following (also Swoops, as one of his line mates appropriately elbowed him).

“Just tell me one thing,” Kent said. The reality of the moment had been processed and he was readying himself to face the crowd, “My mother is not inside.”

The other side of the door betrayed him as well; “Of course I’m inside you horny idiot, now get in here!”

Turning back to Bitty, Kent was met with a weak smile paired with a shrug. Kent kissed Bitty very quickly, and braced himself for the impact of chirps, laughs and unending comments about his sex life.


	3. MORNING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric needs to go to class. The boys have another idea.

It is a delicate dance extracting oneself from three other hockey players in the small bed. A small bed in a small house with many housemates; housemates with eyes and ears and the ability to chirp into oblivion.

And Bitty is about to finish the delicate dance of creeping out from under the sheets to get ready for the nine o’clock Introduction to US World History class he has to go babysit freshman for when one of the unforgiving, old, cursed floorboards creak. Bitty holds his breath and closes his eyes shut, but when he hears no rustling from the bed he heads over to his dresser to put some clothes on.

He’s about halfway through opening his very creaky and very old dresser - a giant fuck you to old furniture, honestly - when there is yet _another_ loud, wretched _squak!_ from his underwear drawer.

No rustling. Bitty continues on his endeavor for clothing.

Of course, though, Bitty never thought to look over at the mess of hockey players on his bed. That beautiful, sexually exhausting mess that is definitely awake and quietly chirping him from the confines of his 500 thread count cotton sheets.

Jack has been smirking this entire time; arms stretched out and bent behind his head as Tater rests on his chest and Kent spoons all six feet and four inches of him. They’ve been eyeing Bitty trying to be as quiet as a mouse this entire time, and they’ve been trying very hard to not laugh. Praying to any and every god helped, because so far Eric is unaware.

It’s not until Bitty’s closet door screams on the hinges that he simply knocks his head back and says a silent prayer to those very gods that they’re still sleeping.

They’re not.

They laugh.

They startle Bittle and laugh even harder when he’s clutching his chest.

However, he’s cloaked in early morning light and he’s wearing all but pants, his hair is directing to all cardinal directions and he’s got the softest, sleepiest look on his face.

“Dammit, how long have y’all been up?” Eric harshly whispers, mainly mad at himself that he couldn’t be as stealthy as he believed.

“Since you moved the comforter, bud.” Jack yawns at the end and Tater curls closer into him. Kent presses a small kiss onto Alexei’s shoulder. Eric’s heart swells and explodes within him at the mental photograph he just took.

“What?” Jack asks.

Eric deflates. He drops the pair of pants he had been clutching.

“I really, _really_ don’t want to go.”

“Then don’t.” Kent says, dumbly.

“Sweetheart, I can’t not show up-” The wrinkles on the tee-shirt he just yanked on his body aren’t too noticeable, so he lets it slide.

“Why not?” Tater asks, and  _ dammit _ he has  _ that  _ look on his face. That “come to bed, B!” look. That  _ I scored a hat trick tonight and need a reward _ look. 

That  _ Bitty, get back in bed and recreate what happened at 1am last night _ look.

“I’m the  _ TA _ , sweetpea, I can’t  _ not  _ be there.” And Eric’s turning around to go to the bathroom, but Kent says something that catches his attention.

“What was that?” Bitty turns around and what he sees is… next to unholy.

It’s Kent. He’s very obviously doing something unsanitary under the covers of his bed. It’s Tater’s face that’s the dead giveaway and Jack’s very obvious (and very horny) smile that  _ tugs  _ on Eric. It’s the tell-tale movement of Kent’s wrist under the covers, Tater’s bite of his lip, and Jack’s sigh.

If it wasn’t the first image of them all cuddling then  _ this  _ is what kills Eric.

“I  _ said _ ,” Kent slides his look over to Bitty, “that you would be missing out on all the fun.”

Jack bites his lip and locks eyes.

“C’mon, Bittle.”

Eric shucks his shirt and nearly knees Jack in the gut with the force he exerted jumping back on the bed.   
  



	4. OOPS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Group chat mishaps.
> 
> Much longer than the other ones because it involves individual mishaps they each do. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one: Jack  
> Part two: Kent  
> Part three: Bitty  
> Part four (not yet added): Alexei

**_J_ **

It happened on accident, Jack will _swear_ up and down. They had been _so careful_ with what they had done and said. They hadn’t told the team; it still felt so new.

Maybe five months in wasn’t new in the eyes of most, but every time Jack wakes up to three other heads he feels like he’s waking up for the first time. Like they’re the reason his body got him up that day.

Bitty had asked about telling Shitty and Lardo, because they’re _Shitty and Lardo_ . Something told Jack Lardo already knew; the way her eyes sparked when their phones pinged at the same time, when they smiled at the same thing, or when they talked about “You know when… um… when _Snowy_ did that thing.”

Yeah. It was _totally_ Snowy that did _that thing_ . That _thing_ that Jack knew exactly what.

Subtle, boys.

So they knew. And obviously George knew and Kent’s PR head. Their parents knew… for the most part; Alexei didn’t exactly know how to explain it to his parents, but they’re working on it. He calls them a lot and every time Alexei wants to tell them. Every time it takes a hug, a kiss, and some encouraging text messages a while after to get him to feel okay about it.

That was also something new for Jack; a _group chat_ for his _relationship._ Normally, it’s one on one. Jack seems to be redefining what he thinks “normal” is recently. With new experiences come adaptations and he is _so_ on board with it.

This group chat: it’s got all of them in it and it doesn’t make sense half the time, but Tater always seems to know what’s going on so Jack trusts him with translations.

When Kent sends _these_ emojis it means he’s eating his tuna sandwich, but when he sends _those_ emojis it means he’s going to fight… Bitty’s professor… with swords?

O- _kay_.

“Sword time.” Tater explains, “You remember when Bitty send bunch of swords in chat once?”

Jack blanks at him.

“That what I thought.” His soda straw slurps at him protesting the lack of liquid as Alexei winks at him.

He’s still figuring it out, and it’s taking a lot of time. Which is why he _swears_ what he sent was an accident. How can someone be in _four different group chats_ \- The SMH chat, the Falcs chat, the Zimmermann Family chat, and now their polyamory chat - and not mess up?

The image itself wasn’t scandalous. It was his old Samwell jersey… maybe he felt nostalgic. Maybe he wishes he and Bitty were together on and off the ice back then. Maybe he felt a little sexy wearing _just_ the jersey.

Maybe his boyfriends needed to know that.

It was a weird thought, too, because Jack had never felt particularly… sexy. Not to say Bitty never told him or Kent never chirped him (we all know Alexei _always_ reminds him, let’s not forget). Yeah, he’s an attractive guy and he’s got a butt you can play bongos on but sexy?

It wasn’t until Bitty that it made sense. It wasn’t until Alexei and Kent that he actually believed them. After he realized that, it got more fun. Joking about it with them felt real instead of abstract. It sure made _whatever_ they did in bed _a lot_ more fun.

He’s feeling himself, as Eric would put it, so he opens the chat, takes the picture, and sends it in such a quick amount of time he doesn’t realize exactly _who_ he sent it to until Poots is sending a million fire emojis and Tozer says it’s his new contact photo.

Jack’s staring at his phone.

Why are rookies in his boyfriend chat? Did Alexei add them? Did he do it on accident?

Then he notices that he sent himself, in his bedroom mirror, wearing boxers in his Zimmermann Samwell jersey (back to the mirror mind you, they needed the _best view_ ) to the wrong chat.

The title bar at the top of his screen reads _Anthony Mackie’s Hockey Team_ (“Because Mackie plays the Falcon! Get it!?”) and not _World’s GrAYtest Hockey Bromance._

_Marty: Oh God Jack._

_Thirdy: GET IT ZIMMERMANN!!!_

_Fedler: Why._

_Henley: This is a joke, right?_

_Dodger: Hey! My cousin goes to Samwell!_

Jack is still staring at his phone when Alexei walks into the bedroom, Jack’s back to him as he’s in front of the mirror now, expression blank and hollow.

“You sent-”

“I know.”

“Look hot, though.”

Jack smirks at him, but still feels the redness on his face. If his immediate embarrassment wasn’t bad enough, Alexei screenshots the group chat and sends it to their boyfriends.

Jack doesn’t live it down for a _long time_.

**_K_ **

Kent pulls a Vicky Jack when they play the Falconers next.

It’s cute, because he’s sitting in the penalty box across from them and Jack skates by waving at him. It was so his own fault; he tried to steal the puck out from under Thirdy and ended up hooking him instead.

Whoops.

He’s hanging out for two minutes and in between plays Tater and Jack make an equal effort to skate by the bin a total of four times.

He’s out in no time and skating to the bench with the lines changing in less than a minute.

Coach yells at him to score one and he does, tying the game at 1-1 before the end of the second.

It’s one of _those_ games. Games where the score rarely changes, but the lines do every few minutes.

He’s facing off against Jack after his goal and can’t help it when he winks at him before the puck drops.

It’s a good game; with seven minutes left in the third, the score at 2-1 Falconers, a fight breaks out between Kent’s liney and one of the Falc’s D-men.

Kent skates over to Tater, mainly for fight purposes, when Jack glides up next to him.

“Good game, eh?”

“Shut your beautiful mouth.” Kent chirps, sandwiched between the two of them as they all lean on their sticks.

Bitty’s somewhere in the crowd grinning like a fool at the three of them interacting.

“We buy dinner tonight.” Tater says over the massive roar of their fans.

Kent looks confused, “But loser pays-”

“First,” Jack says smiling, “you just jinxed the W,” and the refs are pulling the two apart as Zhoho skates to the penalty box, pulling his Aces jersey back on,

“And second,” Jack’s skating away, but he’s talking to Alexei all smug, “I won.”

Apparently, Alexei explains to him, they bet on the scores tonight. _Apparently_ , it’s something they've done before.

Tater had bet that Swoops would score first, because he’s scored early in the last four games for the Aces. He reasoned the lack of core in Falconer’s defense would open him up for the first goal.

Jack laughed and said that a lack of defense fuels Kent; he would _easily_ steal a goal out from under the Falcs.

“He’d score within the first five minutes of the game if I was out there with him, too.”

Alexei didn’t tell him about the makeout session at the thought of that statement, though.

And the first goal of the night for the Aces?

Shot by Kent Parson from the left of Snowy’s pads, assist by Eddie Chuck from the blue line.

Kent was stepping through the double doors of the guest locker room when he saw Tater pulling back from Jack and smiling, the two very obviously post-kiss. It hits Kent kind of weird and it’s not until Alexei puts his hand on the wall to lean into Jack that he gets why:

They can do that here. This is _their_ place; their stance, their soft eyes, their lazy smiles… it’s a big sign saying “Homophobes Beware, Gays Only.”

He snaps a pic. It’s a small moment saved in his phone and he quickly types a witty caption before hitting send and walking over.

“Hey,” he greets with a fist bump. A _Hey_ saying “good game,” saying “I lost and maybe I’m a little upset…

Saying “maybe I’m a little jealous you’re so open with how much you love each other.”

And he’s waiting for their phones to beep or buzz and tell them they were caught, that it was cute and Kent saw _all of it._ That Bitty knows, too.

But they don’t. And Kent gets confused when they all just stand there, quietly, waiting for someone to move. It’s a good enough pause that Jack fixes the strap on his shoulder and says, “So Bitty says he’s at the restaurant.”

Kent checks his phone. _The image sent._

Kent isn’t greeted with a million heart-eye emojis from Bitty, though. He doesn’t see the message where Bitty confirms he is, actually, at the restaurant.

The image is simple, as described. Kent thinks he’s clever when he captions it ‘ _gaaaaaay.’_

What follows is appalled responses from his teammates.

_Swoops: Parser what the fuck man_

_Tiggy: Buddy?_

_Swoops: KENT seriously what is this???_

_Chuckie: Kent we have entire meetings about this shit_

He’s furiously typing a response while trailing behind Jack and Alexei as the two talk about penalty minutes.

_Kent: guys it’s a joke_

_Kent: IT WASNT EVEN MEANT FOR YOU_

_Swoops: you of all people should know_

_Chuckie: ooohhhh boyyyy_

_Kent: IM SORRY BUT WHO IS THE GAY ONE ON THIS TEAM?!_

_Tiggy: wait if it wasnt meant for us who was it meant for_

“Kenny?” Alexei asks Kent as he’s standing outside the car, Jack and Tater at the trunk with their bags thrown in the back.

“Yup. Yeah sorry-” And he’s jumping in the backseat after tossing his bag in with theirs, “Let’s go.”

They think something is wrong until they get to the restaurant and Alexei gets a text from Tony.

**_B_ **

Bitty is better than this.

He stares at his phone in shock at what he just sent the SMH group chat.

 _He is better than this_.

He sits in his bedroom and waits for Kent to kick him in the shin mid-sleep so he’ll wake up. The walls were never _this_ blue, right? And is his Beyoncé poster on the wrong wall? This _has_ to be a dream.

When the responses flood in from his collective teammates (past and present, though he doesn’t think you ever _stop_ being teammates), he knows he’s fucked up.

“Bittle, you’re better than this.” He tells himself as his eyes lock on the article he _meant_ to send to the world famous group chat _3/4s NHL, ¼ Southern Peach_.

His following message was so clever after he sent the link to the article, but now there’s absolutely _no way_ to joke out of this one. It’s the kind of fuck-up that the receiving party need an explanation as soon as possible, and his teammates are getting impatient waiting.

Shitty and Lardo haven’t responded in the group chat, though. They each texted him individually:

_Lardo: Please please tell me that was an accident and not your guys way of telling the team_

_Shitty: BROHAN_

Jack responds later then all of them:

_Tell me I have seventeen texts from Shitty because he saw another Falconer doppelganger and it’s unrelated to the 34 from the team chat._

Another text follows after a minute or two as Bitty just stares at his phone, blank.

_Oh no._

He scrolls back up through the chat and clicks on the article.

_Bits?_

**_IS JACK ZIMMERMANN CHEATING ON LONG-TERM BOYFRIEND WITH EX-FLAME?!_ **

The pictures that followed were Jack and Kent, arms slung around each other's shoulders as they grabbed drinks at a bar in Providence. Their sunglasses were skewed and hair was all kinds of messed up. The sun beat down on them unwaringly, making them glow in it.

It was obvious what happened in the bathroom of that bar. Eric can’t blame them, though, they both look _stunning_.

_Bitty if it was an accident it’s okay._

“An inside source tells us that Eric Bittle isn’t too heartbroken, though,” and the following image was too cherry-on-top to not send, “as you can see for yourself, he cuddles up close and comfy with Jack’s own teammate, Alexei Mashkov! What a treat! No tears for Mr. Bittle!”

And there it was. Bitty’s first paparazzi photo. The team had gone out for a post-game celebration at _Kenickie's_ (their go-to dive joint). Bitty, ever the snuggler, had maybe stuffed himself into Alexei’s side as the night seemed to continue and as Jack knocked back shots with his team. Maybe he liked the way Alexei smelled. _Maybe_ he wanted to do a little foreplay.

Bitty had whispered questions in his ear about drinking the team under the table. Really! There was _nothing_ inappropriate about what he was saying to Tater. All of it was very G-rated.

And then Jack scooted a jack and coke his way (“Get it Bittle?”) and it got _a little_ out of control. What was once G-rated turned PG-13 (completely skipping parental guidance) and threw NC-17 out the window for a nice, red R-rating.

It was a fun night. Had Eric known there were paps outside, he would’ve sat with Poots and Tozer (making bedroom eyes at Alexei from across the booth, of course).

The chat, in present time, was exploding after Jack responded. There was no need to scroll back up as he had already gotten the gist of it.

_Jack: Um… we can explain?_

_Shitty: you guys really don’t have to_

_Holster: EXPLAIN WHAT_

_Ransom: YEAH EXPLAIN_

_Ransom: CONFESSSSS_

_Chowder: What! The! Hell! Is! Going! On!_

_Nursey: oh captain my captain_

_Nursey: explain, asshole_

Bitty sighed,

_Bitty: before anyone says anything give me like two minutes?_

_Lardo: take your time. everyone else can fuck. off._

It was the first message he’d sent after the link, his fingers worked mindlessly as he opened the chat he _meant_ to send it to.

**_3/4s NHL, ¼ Southern Peach_ **

_Bitty: okay long story short I accidentally outed us to SMH and I need an Impromptu Boyfriend Meeting to get approval to tell them what I technically already told them_

_Jack: Do it. It was bound to happen eventually._

_Bitty: not like this!!!_

_Alexei: What happen????_

_Alexei: B okay???_

_Jack: He sent an article to them instead of us and they want answers._

_Kent: so he pulled a Jack_

_Jack: Shut up._

_Bitty: I just need yays or nays boys_

_Alexei: I’m okay!!!! Love Samwell boys!!!!!_

_Kent: i thot they already knew so go ahead_

_Jack: Wow_

_Kent: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯_

Bitty took a deep breath. They’re gonna kill him one day. Maybe just Kent. Definitely Kent somehow.

_Bitty: Jack do you want to explain it or should I?_

_Jack: This is all you, Bittle._

Bitty got the sense this was not the way Jack wanted to tell the team. He looked at the last message in the chat, from Jack,

_It’s not what it looks like._

He’s giving him an out.

Bitty doesn’t want an out.

**_FUCK HARVARD SMH ALL DAY_ **

_Bitty: okay_

_Bitty: listen up hoes_

_Will: Really?_

_Nursey: let the man speak_

And in between a few more texts of everyone mentally preparing themselves for Bitty’s explanation, Bitty had thought of a million different ways to phrase it, but this is what he sent instead:

_Bitty: Jack and I have been dating Alexei and Kent for the past six months and we didn’t know how to tell you guys or if we ever wanted to (AND THATS OUR RIGHT SO STFU W BEING UPSET) and I was trying to be funny but I very obviously sent the article to the wrong group chat so let me hide under my rock in peace_

_Bitty: also fuck you guys for thinking Jack actually cheated on me_

_Bitty: and yes we’re very happy. vvv happy_

There was a lot of silence. If this was a phone call, there’d be the crackle of a phone line, not dead but very alive and very shocked. Bitty felt much better when Jack ‘loved’ his text about their “very, very, very happy” relationship.

_Jack: And don’t blame Bitty or I’ll come for YOUR kneecaps, Adam._

_Johnson: Finally! Some plot advancement…_

_Shitty: honestly lol_

_Lardo: great timing! We were wondering when you guys would spill_

More silence.

_Holster: WHAT THE FUCK_

_Ransom: THEY KNEW!!!!!_

_Shitty: duh_

_Ransom: THEY FUCKING K N E W?!?_

_Nursey: not chill_

_Chowder: I mean it makes sense_

_Nursey: like chill you guys are happy but not chill shits and lardo knew_

_Will: Oh my GOD_

_Ransom: IM SORRY BUT THEY KNEW??????_

_Ransom: WHEN_

_Tango: Wait what happened_

_Whiskey: better question is how did you guys not know_

_Lardo: wait what Whisk knew?_

_Whiskey: l. m. f. a. fucking. o._

_Holster: we want answers_

_Bitty: you got one!_

_Ransom: no like ANSWERS_

_Jack: Guys seriously_

_Shitty: they have a right, zimmerman_

_Jack: They’re not our kids!_

_Ransom: YOU HAVE KIDS NOW?!_

_Holster: WHAT ELSE ARE YOU HIDING?!_

Bitty put the chat on Do Not Disturb and sat back on his bed. He was surprised no one had burst into his room within the last fifteen minutes.

**_Incoming Call: Holster_ **

Bitty picked up only to say one thing, “I will answer any questions over a team meeting at Annie’s, but I get to pick when and you each get two questions.”

Holster was silent, then, “Okay.”

Bitty hung up.

  
_

The SMH group chat:

_Bitty: and to think we thought no one noticed this whole time. guess we gotta come clean!!_

_Bitty: Link: Is Jack Zimmermann…_

_Johnson: Oh buddy… Not like this..._

_Ransom: uh Bitty?_

_Chowder: Wait are you telling us Jack cheated on you?_

_Chowder: IN THE GC?!_

_Holster: no bro that can’t be it_

_Holster: except if he did we’d break his knee caps_

_Ransom: no no no there’s no way it’s a joke_

_Ransom: clickbait, anyone?_

_Tango: Bitty can you explain please? :)_

_Ransom: holy shit what if jack cheated onn bitty_

_Whiskey: wtf guys im in class_

_Will: Do Not Disturb button was put there for a reason._

_Nursey: Biiitttyyyy bro whats this about_

_Nursey: there’s no way Jack did that!_

_Tango: Jack!! No!!! It can’t be!!!!!_

_Ransom: bros i’m starting to think bits didnt mean to send that to us_

_Will: A+ detective work_

_Chowder: SOMEONE EXPLAIN_

_Holster: we would if we could chow, but we can’t!!!_

_Johnson: You poor side characters you._

_Tango: I don’t get it._

_Chowder: Me either???_

_Ransom: guys NO ONE DOES bitty hasnt explained himself yet!_

_Will: Someone kick me out of this group chat_

**_Nursey booted Will from FUCK HARVARD SMH ALL DAY_ **

_Nursey: finally some fuckin peace_

**_Chowder added Will to FUCK HARVARD SMH ALL DAY_ **

_Chowder: No_

_Will: Omg why_

_Chowder: This is a family matter, William_

_Holster: we need to get to the bottom of this bros!!_

_Shitty: guys take a fucking chill pill_

_Jack: Everyone calm down._

_Ransom: EXPLAIN YOURSELF YOU BASTARD_

_Jack: It’s not what it looks like._

  



	5. DISHEVELED

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexei, completely blown away by something Jack did mid-game, tries to play a little game. Kent and Bitty catch on all too eager from their separate locations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hover over links to see translations.

It was game 3 of the Finals and, really, Alexei tried. He tried _so hard_ and waited _so long_. Just when he thought he was home-free it happened.

And he _hated_ himself for it. He sighed and rolled his eyes at himself (which he felt so Western doing); _really_ he was doing such a great job. Right after the game he was going to go on the plane with Jack and they’d Skype the boys and maybe cuddle a little bit. All was well and the plan was working; they were just finishing up the third with three minutes left.

But no.

He just _had_ to pass the puck to Jack in a no-thought one-timer and Jack just _had_ to bank it in from _the far left pipe_ by sailing that sucker into the back of the net. He just _had_ to jump into Alexei’s arms in celebration and get so close he could whisper the _worst_ thing Alexei has heard whispered to him on the ice:

“That was a sexy fucking goal, Lex.”

 _Lex_.

That is.... New.

Very new.

New and sexy and the word went _straight_ to Alexei’s groin. The worst part was the way Jack beamed at him and _winked_ as he skated away; it completely threw the entire plan in the shitter.

So Jack is changed back into his suit after they beat the Jets 4-2, and most of the guys are heading out towards the bus. Jack is shouldering his gear and looking over his shoulder to find Tater so they can walk out together, but he’s nowhere to be found.

_Jack: Where did you go?_

_Alexei: come find me_

Jack smirks at his text, but he’s still confused. Snowy passes by and claps him on the shoulder, asking if he’s heading out.

“Yeah, just a sec.” Jack mumbles, Snowy shrugs, and then it’s just Jack. Alone. In the guest locker room in Winnipeg on a hunt for his Russian.

He kicks open the door to where they cut sticks and sharpen skates: nothing.

He shuffles around to the hallway that leads out to the ice: nothing.

The pinging of his phone shows him a picture, this time in their group chat with Kent and Bitty. He opens the text and it’s a wooden leg of a table, taken at an awkward angle but it’s enough to make out.

So that’s how he’s going to play. Jack smiles; he loves a challenge.

_Kent: wtf tater?_

_Alexei :)_

_Jack: Apparently we’re playing hide and seek_

_Bitty: omg you two_

Jack tries to see if there’s any place with a wooden leg like that nearby. He thinks… and thinks… and maybe he saw something out in the hallway?

He pokes his head out, but to no avail. Nothing. Again.

Jack does not like losing.

_Jack: I need another hint_

_Alexei: >:( _

_Kent: cmon tot do it_

Alexei is typing.

_Bitty: and to think I could be studying_

Tater responds with a picture of the Jets logo and Kent says “well, obviously!” but it’s easier for Jack to find Alexei than he thought. He knows _exactly_ where the Jets logo, painted on a white, brick wall is located.

Walking into the trainer’s room, Jack expected a lot of things. He expected Alexei to not be there and to send more hints. He expected Alexei sitting on the stool, legs crossed, waiting for him.

What he did not expect was Alexei, shirtless, letting his feet dangle from the bench as he dopily grinned at his phone. He’s littered with small bruises from his neck (that Jack can blame himself on) with bigger bruises blooming from the game and… he’s blushing.

His neck is pink and it’s dangerously creeping down his torso. Jack can’t help it when he sneaks a glance at Alexei’s groin to see the smallest hint of a bulge.

Deep breaths, Zimmermann, deep breaths.

“Lose your shirt?” Jack asks and Tater takes in his appearance. Jack’s tie isn’t pulled taut around his neck because his shirt isn’t buttoned all the way and Tater loves how his jacket hangs loose on his shoulders. He drops his gear bag and walks in between Alexei’s legs, putting his hands on either side of his thighs.

“They’re waiting for us, you know.” Jack whispers as he leans in close to peck his boyfriend’s lips. Just as he closes his eyes, he hears the shutter of a phone.

Then his phone pings at the notification that Alexei sent another picture to the group chat.

“Let them wait.” Alexei says and leans down to capture Jack’s lips. And they stay there, close, content, kissing. Alexei sighs as Jack opens his mouth slightly and it’s a little dirtier than normal, but now the fire is lit in him as he lowers his hands to palm Jack’s butt.

Jack pulls back, laughing breathlessly, “ _Seriously_ , where is your shirt?”

“Does matter?” He asks because it’s in his bag; he just wanted Jack to see him with his little bruises and how red he is at the memory of what Jack said earlier.

 _Lex_.

What the hell even was that? Where did he get that from? How long has he been thinking about _that_ name?

“Remember what you say earlier? After goal?”

Jack is kissing his way up Alexei’s black-and-blue chest, neck, and jaw, when he registers his question. He hums with an upward inflection in question because he’s a man on a mission and that mission is sucking a hickey onto Alexei’s skin.

Who says he can’t get one more bruise before they board the plane?

“When I pass to you and you score, remember what you say?”

Jack looks at him and smiles a little sheepishly under Alexei’s gaze.

“Yeah.” Because he remembers everything; the way Alexei _knew_ he was there without even looking, how that goal felt when the buzzer went off, and the words he said, the way Alexei gaped at him, and _god_ how sexy he felt _winking_ at him as he glided to the faceoff.

How _horny_ he felt when Alexei didn’t take his eyes off him when he changed out of his uniform and stared him down.

Now Alexei is massaging his goddamn butt and his phone keeps pinging with texts from Bitty, Kent, and _Marty_ now - oh god.

“I think,” Jack says as his gaze flicks from Alexei’s lips up to his eyes and back down again, “the team is getting impatient.”

“Too bad. You turn me on during game. Not fair, Zimmboni.”

And not fifteen minutes later, Jack and Tater are leaning on each other as the team howls and whistles at them while they board the bus. Tater sneaks a kiss on to the crown of Jack’s head as they separate so they can find their seats, Marty stopping them before they even get past coach.

“I believe whatever just happened in there is subject to a fine, boys.” With the rest of the bus whooping in response as Jack and Alexei fish out $10s and $5s to hand over.

They’re scooching to their seats when Thirdy shouts, “We were gonna send one of the rookies in to grab you, but we didn’t want to scar them with whatever took so long.”

And everyone’s laughing and Jack is giving a dry “ha ha” in return and Alexei can’t help it when he smiles like a big dope when Jack crashes in the seat next to him. He leans over, scans the bus to see no one’s watching, and gives him a small kiss on the cheek.

Jack checks his phone for the first time since he found his missing boyfriend.

The first thing he saw when he opened their little group chat was the picture of him leaning in to kiss Alexei. His eyes were half-lidded (y’know, when you expect to get kissed?) and there’s a soft blush on his cheeks. His hair is slightly mussed as he didn’t have all the time in the world to make it nice like he did this morning (like when Tater chirped him about it before they left for the game). Alexei’s soft smile at the knowledge of sneaking a picture of Jack and the kiss to come blooms warm in Jack’s chest.

The texts in response are as follows:

_Kent: weeellll damn zimmermann_

_Bitty: that’s unfair_

_Kent: seconded_

_Kent: bitty hurry up and get drafted by the aces so we can be the juliet to their romeos_

Bitty emphasized “bitty hurry up and…”

_Bitty: y’all should be so lucky_

_Bitty: so they arent responding and that means one thing_

_Kent: it means we have to send some inappropriate messages for when they DO respond and have to read them around the team?_ _  
_

_Bitty: you read my mind :”)_ _  
_

When they get on the plane, Jack hadn’t checked any of the new messages between the four of them, so when he plops down in his window seat, Tater next to him, he finally pulls his phone out. 

Kent sends a string of kissy-face emojis before the image: 

Kent, posing in front of his mirror in his Vegas apartment, shorts pulled low enough to reveal the dip of his hips. He’s holding up his tee shirt to reveal the part of skin where his Cup tattoo lies. There’s a soft smirk on his face; he looks warm and cozy like he was lounging in bed. Like Kitt was curled at his feet and he was watching the game on TV, Skyping Bitty or texting his sister. 

Bitty sends a semi-blurry picture of himself chugging (what seems to be) a water bottle. Kent responds with a few laughing emojis and goads Bitty into responding with a picture of his own. 

Jack’s typing a response: _You two are so dead when we-_ _  
_

“Cap, what do you think?” One of the rookies, Tozer, turns to ask Jack. He stares a little bit, bringing his phone to his lap on instinct. 

Jack chances a glance at Tater to see if he’s as hot as Jack feels after just a picture of Kent, but Jack notices something that makes him giddy inside. 

Alexei was so in-tune to Tozer’s conversation with Poots that he hadn’t had a chance to check their group chat. 

Before Jack responds to their rookies, he leans over to Tater and whispers “You’re gonna wanna check your phone,” and, louder, responds to Tozer: 

“What was that?” 

Tater fumbles for his pocket. 

“Would you rather live in a house with all your teammates-“ Jack smiles at that thought, because he mostly already is. 

Poots interrupts, “-OR share a bed with your lineys.” 

Which Jack, mostly, already does. 

Tater gasps next to him and coughs it off to make it look innocent. He’s blushing, Jack can see from his periphery. 

“You okay, buddy?” He’s teasing him and Tater smiles at him in return because that’s what they do. He knocks his knee and Jack knocks back because _that’s what they do_ . They do some heavy-petting in the trainer’s room and text their boyfriends and kiss and share a room - _bed_ \- and it’s their teasing that is more like flirting. Their teammates think Tater’s coughing, but he’s really, _really_ trying to suppress a hard-on because... 

“B responded.” 

And Jack’s smile drops and _he_ fumbles for _his_ phone before looking at Poots, telling him “Bed. I’d share a bed,” and opening his messages. 

He sits back, smiles, and his tie hangs loose around his neck. His shirt’s been unbuttoned ever since he let Tater litter his neck and chest with kisses as they slowly let their hands wander over the other’s body. Mind dreaming about the memory, Jack can’t help the grin or the blush that’s blooming. It’s amazing how on-top-of-the-world he feels. How incredible this moment is; sitting next to Tater as he they both examine shirtless pictures of Kent and Bitty.

Bitty’s picture is less modest than Kent’s:

He’s laying on his bed; the same bed Jack’s laid in himself. The same one Kent’s torn him to pieces in. The same bed Alexei’s woke up in, still a little hungover, but cuddled into his side. The same bed where the duvet is on the floor and he sheets are at their feet; Kent’s half off the bed and Bitty is on top of Jack _and_ Tater, which Tater has an arm and a leg hanging off.

The bed in which Bitty is mostly naked, save his boxers (which he angles _just so_ in the selfie he takes, kissy-face to the camera). He’s laying on his stomach, giving the camera a wink, as they can see the dip of his spine and curve of his butt and the whole JPEG sends a chill down both Alexei’s and Jack’s spine.

_Alexei:[ну дерьмо](wellshit). _

Jack has to cover his mouth to hide the enormous grin on his face.

Another image slides it’s way into the group chat.

Kent is laying on his back on his bed giving everyone on the receiving end of this image an intense, “gee whiz if only there were three boyfriends here” kind of look. A look that’s saying “Scroll down! Scroll down!” and when Jack does, he and Alexei suck in a breath at the exact same time.

Poots looks at them funny, “You okay, guys?”

He’s so innocent. So precious.

“Yep.” Alexei responds at the same time Jack says “Just fine!”

They look at each other, bashful. The look back at their phones and Jack wants to groan, out loud, because they’re _so far_ from _that_ . And Alexei wants to be alone with them so he can get his hands on _that_.

 _That_ being Kent, shirtless, shorts-less, hand very obviously down his boxers as he _bites his fucking lip_.

Jack whispers low, “God _damn_.”

Alexei leans closer to him, “What do we do?”

His eyes say “lets go fuck in the bathroom and mess with them,” but Jack grounds him by squinting.

“No-”

“ _Zimm-_ ”

“ _No.”_ And he laughs and Tater rolls his eyes but laughs, “We wait until we get home and _then_ we play their game.”

Alexei mumbles in Russian, which Jack hates that he doesn’t know, but it’s got to be along the lines of “Killjoy” or “Cockblock.”

When they land, oh boy is it trouble for those blonds. They won’t know what hit them.  



End file.
